Enemy Encounter
by rebekah5220
Summary: Floyd Talbert goes on a night walk to get away from camp for awhile...what he wasn't expecting was the German he'd meet on the way.


**Alright…soo…I'm sure this may sound cheesy, or it would never happen and all that…but I have been thinking about it lately, and I had to write it out. So…let me know what ya'll think.**

Floyd Talbert just needed to get away from it all. He was tired of Bastogne, the cold, the lousy food, the death…the whole damn war. Day after day of fighting, watching men—friends—die agonizing deaths…he didn't know how much more he could take.

The snow was coming down even harder than before as he carefully walked with his dog, Trigger, through the snow-covered trees. He knew better than to stray too far away from camp, but he just needed some time to himself…to think.

The cold bit his skin, giving him goosebumps and causing his body to shiver violently. He had a coat on over his uniform, but it didn't stop the fierce wind from penetrating his skin.

He stumbled along through the snow, squinting in the darkness, heading nowhere in particular. The camp was way behind him now, and he could no longer see their foxholes or hear his comrades' voices in the distance. He stopped for a second to catch his breath and slowly slid down to rest under a tree, breathing softly out of his mouth.

Trigger licked his face a couple of times before collapsing beside him, resting his face in the snow.

Floyd laid an arm on the back of his dog and sighed, "When is it all going to end, boy?"

Almost as if he was answering, the German shepherd sat up, his ears twitching and a low guttural growl emerging from his throat.

"What is it, Trigger?" Floyd immediately got to his feet and looked around for his gun, only to realize that he hadn't brought it with him. He mentally chided himself. _How can I be so stupid!_

He froze, holding his breath and silently praying that it was just a wild animal, or perhaps his dog was seeing things. He knew though that it was probably neither—his dog had been trained, and trained well.

As the wind picked up, and blew even unbelievably harder, he squinted and his eyes came to rest upon a figure wearing dark clothes leaning casually against a tree about fifteen feet away.

He was too far away for Floyd to see his face, but not that far away for him to recognize the German uniform and the weapon his enemy held in his hands. He unconsciously felt for his knife in his belt and wrapped a shaking hand around the cold metal. He didn't know the German language, but he figured sign language would be sufficient enough, and pulled out his knife, making sure that it was visible even in the darkness. He knew that it would be no match for a gun, but he felt a little better with the small weapon in his hands, and almost calmly waited for the other to raise his gun and immediately fire at him.

However, the German did nothing. He just stood there and watched him, almost in silent curiosity, and Talbert realized that he had probably been watching him for a while.

"Why don't you shoot?" Floyd asked without thinking. He couldn't help but wonder why a German would not have killed him by now, but doubted he would receive even a reply, since a lot of Germans did not speak English. "Why have you not shot me yet?" he asked.

The other took a step closer, but stopped when Trigger bared his teeth at him. "I think it best you return to your camp." He replied in a thick german accent.

"You haven't answered my question," Floyd said determinedly, slipping his knife back into his belt, convinced that if the man were going to shoot him, he would have done it already. Now, he was sure any normal human being would have headed back to camp as fast as possible and counted his blessings, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was still alive.

The German came closer and Talbert noticed he wasn't wearing a helmet, letting his jet-black hair blow smoothly back from the wind. "I have been watching you. You are just as sick of this war as the rest of my people." The other replied solemnly, "I have killed enough for today, I do not wish to take another life. Now I suggest you go. I could get shot myself just for talking to you."

Trigger growled again and looked ready to pounce, and the German's eyes flitted to the dog for the first time.

"Down, boy." Floyd commanded, placing a hand on his dog's head, and the animal immediately sat beside him. He then turned back to the man in front of him. "What's your name?"

The other hesitated but then smiled slightly, "My name is Axsel. And yours?"

"Floyd…Floyd Talbert."

Axsel nodded, "Well, Floyd, Floyd Talbert…if you still want to take another long walk away from camp…my foxhole is twenty yards straight ahead…the first one on the line. No one should see you."

"I could get killed as it is…and now you're inviting me into your very camp? I'm not suicidal!"

Axsel cocked his head to one side, "You might want to reconsider. I have something that might interest you."

Before Talbert even had a chance to answer, the man turned and walked away, trudging through the snow and fading into the darkness like he was a part of it, while Floyd continued to stare.

It suddenly seemed to have gotten colder, and Floyd briefly wondered if he had hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the cold was really getting to him and he was beginning to see things.

He contemplated taking the other's advice and joining him in his foxhole—for what, he wasn't sure—but then realized that something so risky would be absurd. It could be a trap, for all he knew. But then Axsel's own words replayed in his head… 'I have something that might interest you', his curiosity peaked, and he found himself almost unconsciously walking in the direction of the German camp…with no buddy, no gun—hell, not even a grenade on him. He sighed but kept walking, trying to remain as quietly as he could just in case Axsel was lying and someone could actually see or hear him.

He crept forward until he saw a foxhole, and then dropped to the ground, crawling forward. He could see a dim light inside and pulled out his knife just in case. His dog was following right behind him, alert as ever.

When he was but seven feet away, a German accent pierced the night air. "Floyd Talbert…if you wish to enter, I would appreciate it if the knife would disappear back to where it came from."

Talbert frowned and put the weapon away, slowly approaching the foxhole, still wary of the situation. He peered in, and saw Axsel reading a piece of paper, using his cigarette lighter so he could see in the dark.

"Do not be afraid, you may come in."

Talbert slowly slid into the foxhole and gave him an odd look, "You know, for a German, you speak very good English."

Axsel didn't answer, but instead squinted harder at the paper he was reading, studying it intently.

Floyd rubbed his hands over tired eyes, "I can't believe I'm in a German's foxhole and am not dead already."

"Rest assured, if I had wanted to be dead, you would have hit the ground without even seeing me for the first time. But I do not wish to kill."

"Then why do you?" Talbert hissed.

"I do not wish to…but I must. Many of us would rather not…but we are forced to. There is nothing we can do about it."

Talbert didn't say anything…he just stared at him.

Several minutes passed before Axsel finally tore his eyes away from what he was reading, and handed the paper over to Floyd. "This is what I think might interest you." He said blatantly.

Talbert took one look at it and his eyes widened. It was a list of locations of every German base for miles.

"I take it that will be very helpful to you Americans?"

Talbert narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "W-why?"

"Like I said, I am tired," the other replied sadly, "The sooner this war is over, the sooner we can all get back to our families. So go…take it…and do what you must with it."

"B-but…!"

"Go!" Axsel practically yelled, but then remembered to keep his voice down. "Go before I change my mind."

Floyd just frowned and slowly got up, "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything…just leave."

Talbert nodded and climbed out of the hole. He then quickly headed back to camp, his mind in a tizzy. Major Winters would never believe any of this…heck, he barely believed it himself. He sighed and decided not to say anything to anyone. He would place this on the Major's desk and he would find it in the morning…simple as that.


End file.
